Checking my mouth for any drool and dodging his wolfish grin, I barged into the room. Caleb didn't bother to step aside, but let our bodies graze each other intentionally. The smell of soap wafted off his skin and water soaked the front of my sweater as I passed.
Caleb's room was actually a ginormous suite with a window that stretched the entire left wall and overlooked the pool area below. It had a modern look with funky art deco furniture and bright colors, but it was hard to drink in its full scope with luggage, boxes, and Caleb's music library cluttering the room. I would figure that half this stuff would be in storage with the rest of his furniture until he got his place fixed. His long bow and extra arrows weren't exactly dire necessities, but to each their own.
It would seem that I had suddenly rolled up to the club without knowing. Electronic rock music played in one of the bedrooms in the back of the suiteâsome trendy, obscure European band only Caleb would appreciate. Music snob that he was, he had remarkable taste and could easily make a career out of mixing if he applied himself.
I stepped down into the sunken living room and plopped on one of the red couches. “This is a bit swank for your taste,” I commented.
“Yeah, I was staying at the motel a few blocks from here, but got moved to this place.”
“Moved? Why?”
“After I took you to school, I found a bunch of moving guys in my room bringing all my stuff here. Evangeline set it upâno notice or anything. She booked the top floor for when she comes to town. She wants to keep all her ducks in a row.”
“And keep you and your brothers on a short leash,” I added.
Snapping his fingers, Caleb perfected the image of absurdity: A pale white guy getting his groove on wearing nothing but a towel. The sad part was he was actually good.
“I'm not paying for it, so I don't mind being a pampered prisoner,” he said. “Michael and Haden have those two rooms over there, and I got the master bedroom.” He did a little shimmy dance as he strolled inside said room. As the youngest, it was a rare occasion for Caleb to one-up his older brothers, so any small victory was momentous.
Thoughts of the dynamic duo inspired my next question. “Where are Michael and Haden anyway?”
“They went out on an errand, but they'll be back later tonight,” Caleb yelled from his room.
I craned my neck to see his bedroom door. “What kind of errand?”
“They didn't say. Probably off to get some beer. They're not big fans of the local selection around here. They only drink Smithwick's and Beamish.”
Beyond the cracked door, a white towel hit the carpet and my train of thought took a detour into forbidden territory. Staring at laundry had never felt so dirty.
“So what brings you to my not-so-humble abode? Does your mom know you're here?” he asked.
“Who? Oh, right. No, I just wanted to stop by and tell you that your taxi duties are officially over. I got my new car.”
“That's great. I'm not in the habit of getting up at seven. A guy needs his beauty rest.” He entered the room again and pulled a gray t-shirt over his head.
My stare moved toward his freakishly long and jacked-up feet, which were covered in bandages. He had escaped the hospital and walked six miles to his house barefoot as a result of Capone's hostile takeover. If anyone knew the extent of damage a wayward spirit could cause, it was Caleb, so I'd come to the right place.
I tucked my feet under me, getting good and comfortable before I dove into the real reason for my visit. “I wanna ask you about your blackout. Did you have any memory lapses or lost consciousness?”
He joined me on the couch, but made sure there was plenty of space between us. “Why do you ask?”
“Humor me,” I said.
His stare drifted to the far end of the room and considered his answer. “No. I had a type of déjà vu,
Groundhog Day
feeling, like I'd lived the same day before. I'm driving to work, but the weather's differentâsunny. I'm wearing a different shirt, and a different song is playing on the radio. Then I get out of the car and it's snowing. I'm in my work shirt and there's a big ass dent in my car. You say that you lose time, but there was no time gap here. All I know is I never want to go through that again.”
“Maybe you have a different type of blackout. Maybe you were dreaming and you had a memory implant, like that Dicaprio movie.”
He gave me a skeptical look. “Right. Well, your guess is as good as mine, and to tell the truth, nothing about what we are surprises me anymore.” Caleb stretched and slung his arm over the back of the couch. “Do I have permission to leave the witness stand, Counselor Marshall?”
“Not yet. I'm trying to figure something out.” When I told him about Malik Davis, aka Tobias's disappearing act and the abandoned vehicle found on the parkway, he finally understood why I was so disturbed. Since each of us were connected by a three-way linkâand a really sick twist of fateâit was possible for us to share a reaction in different places. Caleb had his alibi, but where was I when all this vehicular damage was going on?
“God, Caleb, you have no idea how much this bugs me. Two hours of my life are missing and I can't get an answer from her. She won't even explain the whole âclimbing the ceiling' thing. You were right about her being traumatized and scared, but she's shutting me out of her feelings.” I grabbed my bag on the floor, dug inside, then passed him the note that Lilith wrote to me.
Caleb scanned down the index card, grimaced, then handed it back. “Well, at least it doesn't rhyme.”
“Ha-ha. She's out of control and I'm getting sick of the guessing game. I think my blackout has something to do with Tobias's disappearance. He's following me one minute, I blink, and then poof, he's gone. I haven't felt his presence all day. Have you?”
He shook his head, then asked in a tone dripping with bitterness, “Do you miss him?”
“I miss being able to make my own choices,” I answered just as tartly.
“Sam, you're still new to the whole Cambion process. You're gonna feel like you're not your own person, but you're still you. Lilith is just along for the ride. Don't let her drive.” His voice rolled around me, warm and potent. The sound along with his dominating presence made my eyelids droop. I wanted to kiss him so bad . . .
I shook out of my daze and I was about to respond when a knock broke the silence. “Housekeeping,” a thickly accented voice called from the hallway outside.
Caleb looked to me and then back to the door. “Sam, um, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here right now. I was about to eat before you got here.”
“I don't mind,” I insisted. “I could really use your input on this blackout thing. What did you order?”
“Vietnamese,” he answered, then moved to the door.
When the woman stepped into the room, it dawned on me that he wasn't talking about Asian cuisine. She was a young, petite thing with black hair pulled into a bun on the back of her head. She wore the typical cleaning lady uniform, pristine white and starch-stiff with matching sneakers. It was easy to detect her shyness around males by the way her stare dropped to the floor and how she clutched the stack of folded towels to her chest like a shield.
Caleb ushered her to the living room and bid her to sit. She readily obeyed, and I could tell her compliance wasn't from her duties to serve the clientele. One look, one fleeting glimpse from the corner of her eye was all it took, and she was his.
He knelt in front of her and eased loose the towels she held in a death grip. “It's okay if you want to leave, Sam. I know how you get when this happens,” he warned from over his shoulder. “I already ordered before you came by. I wasn't expecting you.”
I squirmed in the seat across from them, certain that this type of room service was not mentioned in the hotel brochure. The comfort level had dropped by two hundred percent, and it didn't help that Caleb regarded this poor woman as an item on a take-out menu.
“Uh, Caleb, can I have a word with you for a second?” I stood up and marched to the small kitchenette area. Caleb followed, cursing under his breath.
In the privacy of the kitchen, I rounded on him with clenched fists. “Have you lost your mind? Ruiz said you weren't allowed to do this.”
He leaned against the counter, clearly miffed that I interrupted his meal. “Ruiz isn't here, and I can't starve myself. That would cause more problems that neither of us are ready for. You of all people should know that.”
“Then here . . .” I shook off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my sweater. “Feed from me. It's safer.”
His gaze traveled the length of my body, considering the option for just a second before he looked away. “No, it's not. I shouldn't have let you feed from me last night. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Capone wants to claim you as his, and so do I. Once I start, I won't be able to stop, and I won't risk going too far with you. We will bond on our own terms, no one else's.”
“Meanwhile, the cleaning staff is a free-for-all,” I argued.
Caleb sighed irritably. “It's different with strangers. I'm not connected to them, I'm not emotionally invested and none of them tempt me like you do. She's not the first donor I've had today and she won't be the last. I know what I'm doing.”
There were more women? What the hell? “Look, I get that you're hungry, butâ”
“I can't have you, Sam, not in the way I need, so I have to settle for the next best thing. It's enough for now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, standing my ground. “Fine. I'll just stay here and make sure you don't go overboard.”
“Suit yourself, but I'm sensing a serious lack of trust in this relationship,” he said with a mock grin then left my side. He returned to the sitting area where the docile cleaning lady waited as instructed.
He sat next to her on the sofa and gently pulled her closer to him. Whispering comforting words, he reached behind the woman's neck, and her head tipped back in eager submission. I was quite familiar with that response. I'd felt the shivers whenever he looked at me, the way he would lure me closer to him. I recalled the heat of his mouth dance over my skin as he left sipping kisses on my throat.
I shouldn't have been watching this. It was wrong on so many levels, forcing me to reevaluate the dynamic of our fated union. Were we going to be one of those weird swinger couples that traded off spouses at dinner parties? I should've broken this up, cussed Caleb out, and told this woman to run for her life, but my feet remained planted where they were.
Moreover, it looked really good, similar to watching someone eat a juicy burger with all the fixings and not offering me one bite. I just came back from dinner with Dad, but Lilith rolled and churned within like I hadn't eaten in days.
The maid returned the kiss, spine arching, head tilting back in a romance novel pose. Her fingers clawed at his shirt and hair, fighting to get closer. Her lips parted again and that silvery thread of light passed in to his mouth. The moment he breathed it in, an ice-cold splash hit my stomach, and my knees buckled. I braced the wall for support, hugged my waist, and tried to ignore the heavy breathing coming from the couch.
“Caleb, that's enough. Check her pulse.” I couldn't believe I was actually coaching this madness. I was truly a sick individual, one who found a strange excitement by watching my boyfriend feed from another woman, a thrill that I was too ashamed to address. At the very core, our kind were incubi and succubi, and not even centuries of adaptation could dilute that dominant gene.
He didn't seem to hear me at first, but his fingers reached up and pressed the hollow dent near her throat. When he felt her heartbeat, his eyes flew open and purple heat shot in my direction. He stared at me with a blank expression, not really seeing me, but only the power lust that struck him blind. His hand slipped from the woman's neck and she tumbled back to the sofa cushion in a boneless heap.
Caleb rose to his feet and moved toward me, slow and deliberate. He never looked so dangerous, so wild, and the sudden tremor rocking my body wasn't from fear, but anticipation. He continued to stare as if I were a sheet of glass, his intense gaze keeping me in place. Just when he was about to walk right into me, he stepped to the right toward the wet bar. Stunned, I watched him pull a small bottle of orange juice out of the minifridge, then he snatch the bottle of aspirin waiting on the countertop.
Shaking the liquid in his hand, he returned to the couch where the woman lay sprawled on her back, gasping for air. He sat her up and handed her the juice and pills. He checked the pulse on her wrist while she chased each tablet with a swig of the drink. Between sips, she thanked him in both English and in her native language, her eyes glassy and on the brink of tears.
The room fell into silence while he waited for her to regain her senses, but he and I knew the woman would never be the same after tonight. Part of her life, her history was now in Caleb's possession. She would wake up tomorrow with a migraine from hell and spend the rest of her days chasing a high she could never catch again. We not only took lives, but we ruined them for those who survived our touch.